


The Fault in Our Mickey

by zankiefanatic



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Family, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 05:53:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5731816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zankiefanatic/pseuds/zankiefanatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is going on about this stupid ass movie and Mickey thinks it's dumb as all hell, but he's gonna watch it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fault in Our Mickey

Mickey had just come home after a long day of legitimate work. It wasn't busting skulls and moving whores, but he found that it didn't eat away at his soul the way he thought it would. Instead it just ate at his bones. He was tired and achy and sore and all he wanted was to drink a beer and maybe get a blow job from that annoying redhead he shared a bed with. But as fate would have it, that just wasn't gonna happen.

The lights were all off, and so he crept quietly thinking maybe the kid was asleep. But no, that could only happen in a normal house. Instead three grown ass individuals were all sitting on the couch weeping like they'd lost their goddamn minds.

"The fuck are you guys doing?"

Svetlana, Ian, and Mandy, all sitting in that order with tissues up their noses, turned to stare at him with red, puffy eyes.

"Boy just wanted to love girl in Amsterdam." Lana sniffled.

"He didn't fuckin' deserve it, Mick." Ian co-signed.

Mandy just continued to cry into Ian's shoulder.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

"We bootlegged the Fault in Our Stars for Yevgeny."

"Then where the fuck is Yevgeny?"

"Oh he fell asleep."

The irony.

"Well as interesting as it is to watching you three blubber like small children; I'm tired and hungry, so Gallagher come with me."

As Ian was wiping away the tears and snot Lana muttered something to the effects of:

"Angry bottom could never be as romantic as Augustus Waters."

There were snickers, but Mickey had no idea what they were fucking talking about, so he ignored it. That night, after leftover lasagna and freckled fingers working out the kinks in his back (and balls) they lie in bed together quietly. Mickey was sated with his post coital/ good night cigarette and Ian was curled up on his chest staring forlornly up at him.

"What's wrong Freckles?" He smirked reaching to pat at the wild mane of Ian's hair.

It was time for a hair cut again.

Ian frowned. "You should stop smoking, Mickey. Y—You could get cancer."

"Milkovichs don't get cancer. We'll be here after Russia drops their atomic bomb drinking moonshine next to the roaches and Frank."

"You don't know that. And I can't . . . I can't lose you okay?"

"Jesus, Ian, I ain't goin' anywhere. What brought this on?"

"Well Augustus—"

"Wait, wait, wait… Is this about that goddamn movie?"

Ian smiled sheepishly giving Mickey the only answer he needed. Mickey grabbed a pillow slapping Ian in the face for ruining his post sex high.

"It's a movie dumbass. Fiction? Probably wasn't even that good."

Ian snorted. "Mickey, it was beautiful. A true masterpiece. John Green is a literary genius who happened to have beautiful little film angels make something special."

Mickey groaned glancing at the ceiling. "I can't believe I willingly have sex with you."

"This is serious."

"No, you're seriously a jackass."

That should've been the end of it.

But then they corrupted his poor boy. Yevgeny and Mickey hadn't always had the best relationship, obviously, but as the kid began to grow and his got darker it was a little easier for Mickey to disassociate him from what happened. He was just a kid after all. Ian had helped the most in that department, teaching and helping him to be a father. He thought he'd been doing a pretty good job, and then the dumbasses made him drink the kool-aid. He blamed himself, really, for not being there to protect him.

It was a Saturday, his day off, and he and Ian were watching the kid so Svetlana could get her carpet munched or something. He was smoking a cigarette when a tiny individual climbed up into his lap with a grunt and made himself comfortable.

"Daddy." Yevgeny whined covering his face.

Mickey blew his smoke to the side and moved the cigarette away from Yev, so he wouldn't inhale it.

"What is it, kid?"

"You can't smoke anymore, Daddy Ian says it makes cansor! You'll die Daddy I don't you to die."

"Oh for the love of—Ian!"

"Yes, dear?" He sing-sang poking his head out of the kitchen where he was cooking lunch.

"My son? You infected my own kid with this bullshit?"

"Language. And he wanted to see what was making Lana cry. She never cries."

Mickey peeked at the tiny boy siting in his lap with huge baby blues staring up at him.

He groaned and put the cigarette out, already planning how to find this John Green guy and teach him a lesson for fucking with his smokes.

The plane was to wait until everyone was asleep and beak the damn thing. Perfect evil plan right? Wrong. There he was sneaking out to execute his plan like a ninja when he heard the little sniffles of a non-sleeping boy. Dammit.

"Daddy?" Yevgeny mumbled tiredly.

Mickey sighed. "Yes, Yevgeny?"

"I can't sleep."

"Of course you can't sleep, you're too busy walking around talking to people."

He giggled. "No, daddy, that's silly. Mommy always does something special to make me feel better."

"Oh yea? What does Mommy do, please enlighten me."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how he ended up watching the Fault in Our Stars. It was terrible, of course, so terrible that despite Yevgeny falling asleep fifteen minutes in, he proceeded to watch the entire thing. Damn that cancer. Dam it all to hell for taking away his Augustus Waters.

"Mick?"

He quickly wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat to dispel of all the evidence. But it was no use, the asshole had already caught him red handed.

"Movie is fuckin' stupid." He mumbled picking Yev up off the couch and walking right past Ian.

Ian laughed, loud and boisterous, sending a delight grin his way. Needless to say he slept on the couch that night. And _sometimes_ they say, every now and again, on a late night, you can hear the sounds of a grown man crying to a chick flick.

**Author's Note:**

> yay fluff!!!!! I might post a couple more things this weekend. I'm trying to keep things upbeat and happy in this time, so i wanted to start with this one. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. THANK YOU!
> 
> zankivich.tumblr.com


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